


Drifting

by orphan_account



Series: A Fic A Day [12]
Category: Merlin (TV), Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sad, also this is my first rpf fic and i am so paranoid, brolin - Freeform, comments would be lovely, fotd, i couldnt write b-day sex like everyone else, more bittersweet than anything, not a happy (not really) ending, so this little gem happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 03:56:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time you met him, you had no idea how special he was gonna become to you. And he does, and you do nothing about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drifting

**Author's Note:**

> so everyone (im guessing) wrote brolin birthday sex (also happy b-day bradders bb)   
> and here i am writing sad brolin birthday angst yay go me ^^
> 
> anyway here you go.   
> 2nd person, Bradley’s pov.   
> angst.   
> Also bittersweet ending.

The first time you met him, you had no idea how special he was gonna become to you.

It was his stumbling gait, his confusing humor, and his barely understandable accent. It, all of it, made you fall in love. Not at first, though. At first, you were a little wary, a little surprised, a little caught off balance. But you tried to get closer, tried to understand, and the closer you got, the further you fell. So maybe you did fall in love with him a little bit at the beginning. 

The date is October 12th, 2009. And he's blushing, stammering as he wishes you a belated happy birthday, apologizing that he didn't know. And you just smile indulgently, thank him, and go about your day. Videotaping, of course, and somehow he makes it into 90% of the videos. 

You're baffled, because even though you really just met, can only just call each other friends, you can feel yourself trusting him. Trusting him almost more than you do your other friends. And maybe this is what makes you realize what a good run you're about to have on set. How important these next few years are going to be, and how interesting.

And even though you don't deserve it, he still buys you a little gift. Nothing big, a giftcard to the sandwich shop two towns over, but you still smile and thank him, because it was such a sweet gesture. You take him there with you the next day. You chat about football, about _Merlin_ , about the cast and crew, about school. And the entire time you're smiling. 

You keep smiling after you get back to the hotel, bidding him goodbye in the hallway and making your way to your respective rooms. He gives an awkward wave before entering his room, and you shake your head fondly before going into yours.

The next year, October 11th, 2010. He bought you tickets for two to a showing of _Hamlet_ at the play near the set. He laughs when you hug him in thanks and jokingly says how he could never forget your birthday. You blush, and ask him if he'd like to come with you. He grins blindingly and agrees. You have to force yourself to not mention how much you love his smile.

You're distracted the entire play because of the childish look of wonder on his face. It's completely worth it.

Another year passes. Jokes, laughter, pranks (mostly on Angel), and memories. More videos are made, and you even go on a road trip together. 

You never say how adorable his morning hair looks. Or how much you want to run your fingers through it.

October 11th 2011 comes and passes, with hugs and gifts (it's a mini-Arthur figurine and a book on origami this time). You eat dinner together in your hotel room, ordering room service at midnight and lamenting how badly you both are going to feel the next day on set. You watch a movie - at one point his head falls onto your shoulders, and you let yourself pretend that he's yours, if only for that moment. 

You don't wake him up, and you sleep on the couch that night.

The next year goes by slowly. You both know that it's almost about to come to an end. Nights are spent in one of your rooms, talking about everything but what your plans are after the show ends. 

On October 11th, 2012, you get a card. It's obvious that he bought it, but he added a personal note that spans the entire inside of the card. It's full of memories, feelings, and honesty. You keep the card tucked in your suitcase beside your passport, never wanting to lose it. The end draws ever closer.

You spend the year doing interviews, goofing off, and doing whatever you can to ignore the looming end. You both learn origami, fencing, sailing, and you attempt to teach him how to play footie. It doesn't work. By the time the wrap party rolls around, you've carefully planned out how you were going to act around him. No bitterness, no tears. Only happiness and reminiscence. You keep the facade up, taking pictures with all of them and laughing until your stomach hurts. But with every glance at him, the empty feeling inside of you starts growing.

An hour before the party ends, you both finally escape and find each other on the private balcony. It's deserted. You come up behind him, and whisper, "Boo", into his ear. He jumps, and you chuckle. He gently swats your arm. You lean on the balcony next to him, and finally talk about the thing you've been avoiding for the past couple years. The future. His voice is timid when he replies, almost as if he's doubting himself.

"I think - I think I wanna try singing."

Your voice is equally soft when you encourage him.

"Do it, Cols. I always said you have a brilliant voice."

His smile is worth the pain you feel when you realize that your paths are heading in completely different directions. He politely asks what you're gonna do.

"Moving Stateside, I suppose. Gonna try to break into the film industry there."

He wishes you luck with such an earnest expression that you have to force yourself not to lean forward and capture his lips with yours. At the end of the night you both hug goodbye. He holds you a little bit longer than you expected, squeezing tightly. 

You leave in different taxis, each taking you to a different destination - you to the airport, him to the hotel.

So you go your separate ways - him to the stage and you to the States. You text a lot in the beginning, but as time goes on it dwindles down into near nothingness.

October 11th, 2013 comes quickly. It's been a year.

You're sitting on your couch at your apartment in LA, watching TV. Your phone sits on the side table; it's been ringing all day with well-wishes and congratulations (and a cheery, "What's up, old man?" from Eoin). But the one person you wanted to call you hasn't yet. You're beginning to suspect that the caller ID isn't going to show his name.

You've followed his success over the past year, and even flew back to see him at The Globe. Sadly, you didn't see him personally. You left before he came out to greet his fans. 

You visit your family, then fly back to LA the next day. 

He never even knew. Or maybe he did, and didn't care.

You glance at your phone again. _0 new messages_. Sighing, you decide to give it up as a lost cause. The phone stays in the living room as you make your way to the bedroom, promising you won't let yourself get down on the missed opportunity of lost loves. 

You fall asleep to memories of his smile and his laughter.

When you wake up there's a single solitary message on your phone. Your heart beats when the caller ID confirms it is from him.

_so srry I missed ur b-day, B, happy belated and hope LA is treating u well!_

You sigh and put the phone down after sending a short _thanks, cols_ back. You try to tell yourself that you aren't disappointed, but you can't lie to your own mind. Mourning the joy the previous years brought you, you delete the text and turn your phone off, heading out to work.

_Well, it was good while it lasted. I'm just glad he's happy._

So you go on, you and he, moving in different circles, sometimes overlapping, but never truly coming together. And that's the tragedy of it all, isn't it?


End file.
